The Enterprise Potluck Incident
by tempest10
Summary: In Chapter Two: There is a stuck turbolift and events begin to unfold... or perhaps ensue. Includes: Spock, arguments, acronyms, trig, potatoes, and anatomy. Rating has gone up due to cursing.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: I don't know if this is canon or not, but I've seen multiple references to Vulcans being intoxicated by chocolate or catnip. Both of those seen to be unlikely substances to work like that. Hence this story. Also, I love food and cooking, so any excuse to cram either one into a story. Enjoy.)**

Tonight, there was a party on the _Enterprise_. A few days ago, they had landed on a planet, and nothing went normally. This was a cause for celebration because of what 'normal' was for this crew. This time, however, they dropped off supplies for the scientists who were _not_ dead and _not_ crazy. They didn't even report anything unusual. There were no aliens, energy beings, spores, kidnappings, disappearances, etc. No one died, not even a redshirt.

This put the whole ship in a good mood. Someone had even put up a board saying 'ONE MISSION SINCE OUR LAST DEATH', with the 'one' erasable to write in two, or zero. No one expected it to stay long, but it was a nice touch.

Tonight, as part of the ongoing celebration, there was a potluck. Chekov contributed some kind of potato soup, Doctor McCoy brought cornbread, and Uhura made hot chocolate.

Kirk brought forks.

"Wow, Jim, these are fantastic forks," McCoy commented. "I didn't know you had it in you. Just think of you slaving over a hot stove for hours just to make these delicious forks from scratch."

"C'mon, someone's got to bring the forks."

"You didn't sign up for them." The doctor squinted at a piece of paper he held in his hand. "You signed up to bring a side dish. Ensign Muller signed up to bring forks."

"Aww, you know I can't cook."

"Don't be ridiculous! Anyone who can read can cook."

"Doctor, you and I both know that is a fallacy."

Kirk and McCoy both looked over at the just-arrived Vulcan. McCoy looked at his list. "You didn't sign up to bring anything."

"Yeah," Kirk leapt in. "This is a _potluck_ not a, um, don't-bring-anything-luck."

Spock raised his eyebrow. "There was not enough room on the sign-up sheet. I wrote on the back."

McCoy hastily flipped the paper around. "Oh, there you are. You brought a dessert?"

There was a nod.

"Give it here."

Spock obligingly handed over a cardboard box.

McCoy opened it and looked inside. "Ooh, cake. I'll go put it on the table." He hurried off.

Kirk looked at his First Officer. "Thanks for bailing me out."

The eyebrow quirked. "I did not bail anything. There was nothing to bail. Also, I have no suitable bailing implement, unless you count the cake box, and bailing anything with that would ruin the cake."

"Was that a joke?"

"No."

There was an awkward silence, which Spock made more awkward by saying "It is true that you cannot cook."

"Thanks."

There was more silence.

"Uh, why don't we get something to eat?"

"I have no objection."

The two slowly wound their way past the others in the room (it seemed a good fraction of the ship had brought a dish) and made their way to a large table with food on it. They both took plates.

There were too many dishes for an author to describe without making the story sound like the index of _Betty Crocker_. Needless to say, there was a lot of food.

After getting food, the two sat down at a table. They were about to eat when Uhura came by, likewise with a full plate. "Is it okay if I sit here?"

Kirk made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Sure."

She sat down. "Hey, neither of you has a drink."

Spock spoke up. "We were planning to get drinks after we found a place to sit, so as to minimize the risk of spilling it."

"Smart." She nodded approvingly. "I brought some hot chocolate. Want me to get you some?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Yes, thank you."

Uhura left. The two men ate some food. She came back.

"Thanks" they both said.

"You're welcome." She sat down. "Hey, what did you two bring?"

"I brought a spice cake. The Captain brought forks."

"Ooh, I love spice cake. Does it have frosting?"

"It has cream cheese frosting."

As they chatted, Kirk wondered what it was, anyway. Most of the time, Spock wasn't even interested and girls just flocked to him. Maybe it was that he _wasn't_ interested. Kirk shrugged internally and took a gulp of hot chocolate.

"Wow, that's really good hot chocolate, Uhura." He commented, trying to get back into the conversation.

"Thanks." She smiled.

Spock took a drink. "Likewise, this hot chocolate is very good."

"Thanks." She paused for a second. "I hope you don't mind me asking this…"

"You haven't asked yet. As I don't know what your question is, it's impossible to know whether or not I will mind."

"Well… someone once told me that Vulcans get drunk on chocolate."

"That is simply a rumor."

"That's a pretty weird rumor" Kirk remarked, trying again to get into the conversation. "I wonder how it got started."

"We metabolize at a different rate then humans. We exhibit a 'sugar high' sooner than you do, and at lower concentrations of sugar. That is probably what started the rumor."

After a pause he added. "Furthermore, I cannot get high off of catnip, so please stop leaving it in my quarters."

"That wasn't me! It was someone else!"

Uhura gave Kirk a look. He grinned sheepishly.

Spock got up. "I am going to see if there is more of that herb bread left." He went off.

Uhura looked at Kirk again. "You leave catnip in his quarters?"

"That wasn't me, I swear!"

"Uh-huh."

They ate in silence for a little while, until Spock came back with more bread and Doctor McCoy.

Not wanting to return to the subject of the catnip, Kirk immediately engaged McCoy in conversation. Uhura joined in and the three of them talked for a while, until McCoy noticed that Spock wasn't speaking. "So Spock, what do you think?"

Spock still said nothing. The doctor turned to face him. "C'mon, what's the matter, cat got your tongue?"

Spock twitched his eyebrow. Then he calmly said "Roy Gee Biv. Richard of York gave battle in vain."

This prompted a few shocked looks. Spock didn't seem to notice. He simply sat.

McCoy sighed and scanned him with a tricorder. "What did Spock eat?"

"A lot of stuff. He had some hot chocolate, some salad, oh, and a lot of that bread."

McCoy scanned the bread. Then he tasted some. "Dammit Jim, he should have known better."

"Than to do what?"

"This bread's got oregano in it!"

Kirk gave the doctor a confused glance.

"Oregano. It's a human flavoring; we put it in a lot of stuff. We even used to call it the 'pizza herb'. It's a hallucinogen for Vulcans." He sighed. "C'mon, let's get him to Sickbay. It'll be nice and quiet there."

**(A/N: This is a setup to another chapter, which will hopefully be funnier. I'll put it up when I have it finished, or when I get two reviews, whichever happens last. Also, kudos to whoever gets the 'Richard of York' reference.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Here's the second chapter; I hope you like it because this is hard. Spock was tricky to make him sound not normal, but also not like a madman. He may be high, but he's still Spock. Also, if the last couple of paragraphs sound a little slashy, that was not my intention. Really, I promise.)**

Thankfully, they did not meet anyone else on their way to Sickbay. Most of the crew was at the potluck. This was good, because the whole experience had somewhat unnerved Kirk. He was used to his First Officer being calm and collected, not vacant-eyed and bumping into walls. The good thing however was that Spock seemed pretty cooperative. He followed them and kept quiet.

Unfortunately, this did not last for very long. "Jim?"

"Yes?"

"I can smell Chekov's potato soup."

"Hmm…," muttered the doctor. "Olfactory hallucinations… those are pretty uncommon in humans."

"There are more than three hundred documented varieties of potato soup."

"Oh really?" Kirk remarked. "Don't walk in there; that's a closet."

Spock turned away from the door and continued going in the right direction. Kirk breathed a sigh of relief when they came to a turbolift. At least he couldn't wander off in there. McCoy wasn't any help; he just kept muttering and taking notes.

"I have tasted four varieties of potato soup in my life. The best one I had was four years, two months and sixteen days ago."

"Uh huh."

"It had leeks in it."

"Uh huh."

"The potatoes did not melt."

"Uh hu- huh?"

"Potatoes cannot melt. It is a scientific fact. I know about science. I am a science officer."

"Yeah, I know. So… how do you like being a science officer?" Anything to get him off the subject of potatoes.

"However, these potatoes gave the _illusion_ of melting."

Great. He always did have a one-track mind, Kirk reflected.

"They had been cooked to the point of being so soft that they dissolved when you inserted a fork."

"Uh huh."

"Potatoes cannot melt, but they can dissolve."

"No they can't." McCoy chimed in.

"Huh?" Kirk began to wonder when the turbolift would stop and they could get out. This created another worry. These things had been sticking pretty often. Engineering still hadn't figured out why they kept stopping unexpectedly, and last time it happened they hadn't been able to get it going again for two hours.

Two hours…

"Doctor, you are illogical."

"Illogical? You're the one just telling me that you can dissolve a potato."

"That is logical. That is the height of logic. You are the depth of logic. You are thirty-six and two-ninths below the sea level of logic."

"That's even less logical!" McCoy yelled. Then he stopped, realizing that he was yelling. "Dammit, I'm a doctor not a psychologist. Why am I standing here arguing semantics and logic with a Vulcan outta his skull on a _cooking herb_?"

"Because you haven't got a choice," observed Kirk. Shoot… this thing probably was stuck.

"Doctor, I am not out of my skull. My skull is inside my head. I am outside of my skull. Except," Spock paused. His forehead scrunched up in an attempt to think. "my skull is part of my body. And I am inside my body, I believe."

"You _believe_?"

"I believe many things. Belief: noun. An acceptance that a statement is true or that something exists."

"What did you do, memorize the dictionary? Well, let me tell you something…"

Kirk flipped open his communicator. "Scotty?"

There was a pause, then "Yeah?"

"I'm in a turbolift with two madmen and it's stuck."

There was a sigh. "I'll get right on it." The communicator beeped and was silent.

Meanwhile, the discussion going on behind him had escalated into a shouting match. Kirk had to admit, when this fiasco had been resolved, he would look back on this and laugh. He leaned against the wall and watched.

"A noun! A noun! A noun is not a mnemonic or an acronym! Those are totally different things!" McCoy was waving his arms over his head.

"Many acronyms have been accepted as nouns. Scuba and taser. Therefore, an acronym is just a special kind of mnemonic." Spock yelled, seemingly not upset, just trying to be louder than the doctor. His face was still impassive.

"Whaddaya mean, therefore? That was not a 'therefore' situation! And mnemonics are _not_ acronyms!"

"Soh- Cah- Toa. Soh- Cah- Toa. Your logic cannot refute that."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? It makes no sense!"

"It is a mnemonic for trigonometry functions. It is an acronym for Sine is opposite side over the hypotenuse. Cosine is adjoining side over the hypotenuse. Tangent is-"

McCoy was really worked up now. "I! Don't! Care! I could literally not care less about trigonometry functions! I do not even know what a trigonometry function is! Would you be quiet!?"

"I would not be quiet. A trigonometry function is not a social function. Tangent is a trigonometry function. A potluck is a social function. I brought cake," continued the Vulcan at the top of his lungs.

_You know_, Kirk wondered, _the way he's screaming at McCoy but his face is just calm, is that a Vulcan thing? Or is it just him? Or the whatchamacallit- oregano?_

"Okay, get ahold of yourself." McCoy had his head in his hand, talking to himself. "It's no good arguing with him. He's not even gonna remember this. Is he gonna remember this. Arggh, I hope not."

He looked up at Spock again. "Quit screaming, willya? That could really get on someone's nerves."

Spock cocked his head quizzically. Fortunately, the next thing he said was in a normal tone of voice. Unfortunately, the next thing he said was "I cannot be on your nerves, because your nerves are inside of you. I can, however, be above your nerves if I was atop you in some way. Let me demonstrate…"

McCoy leapt with surprising alacrity behind Kirk. "You stay away from me, you hear?" Lowering his voice, he growled in Kirk's ear. "This had better be fixed soon, or _someone's_ going to get hurt. And I'd just as soon it not be me."

Kirk gulped. "Understood."


End file.
